


Cat-Rath

by WordsAreThereToBeRead



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, No Smut, Rated For Violence, post-episode: s05e06 Taking Control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-28 10:22:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30138111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAreThereToBeRead/pseuds/WordsAreThereToBeRead
Summary: Catra is back in Adora's life. It feels familiar to have her around again, yet also alien. Turns out:  saving Catra's life isn't enough to fix their friendship. Adora is convinced the effort is worth it, and she's confident she can do it. If only that were all they had to fix.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   * The story takes place during "Perils of Peekablue". It diverges from canon in the sense of "what if ...".
>   * I'm not a native English speaker, and though I tried my best to get it right, please bear with me should you have difficulties understanding. You can always drop a comment in that case, I'll try to fix it.
>   * As for the title: it's a pun that (hopefully) works in British English (which I've chosen for the story). I didn't know there was a difference in pronunciation in this case before I came up with the title but chose to stick with it.
> 


Adora stands at the window on Darla's bridge and watches the stars. There are so many to see, Adora can't grasp the possible number of inhabited planets out there – Planets under Horde Prime's control. She feels a chill inside despite the gentle stream of warm air coming down from the vent above.

The ship is approaching Etheria at top speed. Adora has to take that for granted as the dots of lights outside are so far away they don't move. Less than a day and they reach home, Entrapta said five minutes ago before she cackled and dashed away. Behind Adora, Bow and Glimmer are already chatting about how they miss being in a live environment and breathing fresh air that's not been recycled for the hundredth time or so.

 _It'll be a nice change_ , Adora thinks. But as much as she'd like to be home again, there's still an invading force all over Etheria they have to deal with. However, having Catra finally rejoin her side makes it impossible for her not to think about the carefree moments they had back in the Horde – when she was oblivious to what the Horde really was. Oblivious to all the pain they both would have to go through.

“Why you're staring at me?” Catra pulls Adora out of her thoughts. She's sitting on the sill in front of Adora with narrow eyes.

Adora didn't realize she took her eyes off the stars and instead focussed on Catra. She feels her cheeks heat up. “Sorry, I didn't mean to. I was lost in thought and not even looking.” She tries to put a reassuring smile on her face.

Catra lowers her ears and turns her face away and towards the stars again. Adora opens her mouth to ask what that's supposed to mean, but her gut feeling tells her to shut up, so she does. When exactly had she become so bad at handling Catra and her moods? Had she ever been good at it in the first place? It's all so confusing she sometimes wants to scream and hurl her fists at her punchbag.

It'd be so much easier if they were able to make a fresh start. Or if Catra wasn't so stubborn. Adora feels her body stiffen. She remembers Perfuma's lessons on meditation, closes her eyes and concentrates on breathing. Bow's and Glimmer's chatting is fading to the background. Relaxation comes slowly but steady.

Adora opens her eyes and finds Catra's place at the window is empty. She turns her head and spots Catra, hanged head and bent back, scuffling towards the door leading to the main corridor. Seeing her like this gives Adora a lump in the throat, and Catra's words echo in her ear: _You broke my heart_.

 _I'm a terrible friend_ , Adora thinks. _Holding her responsible like I've done nothing wrong, like I don't have to change_. She bites her lip, hurries after Catra and is glad to find her in the corridor. “Catra!” She's surprised by the shakiness in her voice and hopes it goes unnoticed.

Catra stops and turns her ears back. She stands still for a second before she faces Adora. Her right hand rests on her left arm's crook – just like yesterday when she joined the team for dinner the first time.

Adora slowly closes in on her. “Can we talk? Please?” Her voice is soft and even. “I've got a lot on my mind, lately, and it's driving me crazy.” _Stop it, you're talking too much._ She holds her hands up. “I really don't want to pester you, it's just ...” _Cut it out already!_

Catra crosses her arms and nods at the door they both just took. “I bet your friends are wild about discussing your plans.”

Adora's eyes widen. “What? No! I mean, yes, but ... That's not what I ...” She puts her palms at her temples and exhales deeply before she looks Catra in the eyes again. “I wanted to talk about, you know,” she points a finger back and forth between them, “us.”

Catra stares at her with raised ears.

“Please?” Adora leans forward.

“Fine.” Catra turns away. “Let's go to my room.”

Adora follows her into the former brig. She watches Catra sit down at the head of the bed, legs stretched out, and accepts her invitation to join her. The bed squeaks while Adora positions herself at Catra's side, facing her, their knees at level, their left legs a hand's breadth apart.

The two of them look at each other for a while, accompanied only be the soft humming of the ship's engine before Adora finds the courage to speak. “I'm happy to have you back.”

Catra returns her smile.

“I've thought a lot about our past. A part of me likes to remember the fun we had, and how easy it was at times. That part wishes we could go back and be children again.”

“Yeah, like life had been a blast and absolutely nobody there to bother us,” Catra snorts and looks at the wall to her right.

“I know, Catra, I'm not going to deny the hard times.” She runs a hand up and down the mattress. “After I left the Horde, I wondered what it would have been like to grow up without you and–”

“Spare me that!” Catra jumps up, clenches her first and walks up to the wall she'd been staring at. Her tail is stiff.

Adora opens her eyes in shock. “No, I–”

Catra glares at her. “I'm not going to listen to you telling me how I stood in your way and made Shadow Weaver give us a hard time!”

“No!” Adora yells and thrusts her hands forward in frustration. “I wanted to say that it would have been horrible without you!”

“Like you believe that,” Catra scoffs.

“But I do!” Adora forces herself to lower her voice back down. “Please hear me out.”

Catra blinks and her tail twitches.

“Every time you opposed Shadow Weaver, you showed me there is more than obedience, that there are alternatives. If Shadow Weaver had me all to herself, what do you think would have become of me?”

Catra leans with her back against the wall and looks at her feet.

“I will tell you what I think: I'd become her puppet. Yes, there would have been fewer obstacles in my way, I probably would have built a career in the Horde, but that's a terrible thought.” Adora hangs her head. “I tend to deny things, especially about myself. And when people keep telling me I'm doing well, when I get promoted, I'm all in for their lies and think I'm a good person.”

Adora massages her legs, driving her thumbs into her muscles. She hoped Catra would say something. When Adora looks back up, she gets a glimpse of Catra's eyes before they evade hers again. “Even when you got me into trouble, you helped me to become who I am. And I'm glad you did.” She smiles weakly.

Catra looks at her in a way that makes Adora feel being on probation. “You do believe that.” It's statement, not a question.

Adora nods. “Please join me again.”

Catra hesitates, then walks over to the bed and takes her place.

“I'm sorry I made you feel like I'd diss you.”

Catra nods. “Sorry for, you know, getting angry like that.” They share a smile.

“We're not doing too bad, are we?” Adora takes off her jacket and drops it on the floor where it collapses with a rustle. “Remember Crystal Castle? When we were trapped in this illusion?”

“That place gives me the creeps just thinking about it.” Catra holds on to her knees.

“Yeah, that _didn't_ go so well.” Adora scratches her head. From the corner of her eye she can see Catra looking at her. She reaches behind her head to remove her hair tie – more slowly than necessary – and runs her fingers through her hair. “You blamed me – no hard feeling about that! – for liking being Shadow Weaver's favourite.”

“Loving.”

“Huh?” Adora quickly turns her head, her hand still buried in her hair.

Catra blushes and avoids Adora's eyes. “I remember blaming you for _loving_ being her favourite.”

“Fine, whatever. Well, I denied, as you probably also remember. I thought about it. And while I can't fully commit to the 'loving' part, I've come to the conclusion that ...” Adora tugs on her sleeves.

“I'm listening.”

“Well, I guess you had a point.”

“Come again?” Catra's brows rise. “It almost sounded like you said I was right.”

Adora sighs. “Catra, I'm serious. It's difficult for me to get it all straight in my head. I know it was me who wanted to talk, but please, help me a little?”

Catra's ears sink to her sides. “Okay, okay.” Her tail brushes against Adora's ankle.

Adora is torn between being annoyed at Catra giving her a hard time and savouring that warm feeling blooming inside her. Why is it that one word is enough to drive her up the wall and one touch is enough to forget about it? Being with Catra for sure is a ride.

“Anyway.” Adora collects herself. “Despite all the pressure and punishment we received from Shadow Weaver – or maybe because of it – it felt good to get some praise from her. And while I don't think that's a bad thing in its own right” – Catra's tail twitches – “I realized that I ... wanted the praise. Worked towards it.” Adora crosses her legs. Her left knee is almost touching Catra's shin. “And by that,” she says, “her goals became my own. Partially, at least. So when she–” Adora swallows audibly.

Catra moves a bit forward and gently places a hand on Adora's knee.

Warmth spreads through the cloth, and Adora draws strength from it. “I could have stepped in for you more. Should have.” She feels her eyes become wet. “Although I didn't do it to hurt you, I still failed to see how much you suffered. Denied it.”

Catra shifts on the bed and crosses her legs, her hand still touching Adora. “You don't have to go on,” she says softly.

Adora snorts and wipes her eyes. “I didn't even get to the point I wanted to talk with you about. It's all chaos in here.” She tips her forehead although Catra isn't looking. “I can't set my priorities. Sorry.”

“I can bear it.” Catra moves her hand down on Adora's leg at squeezes it gently.

“Ugh, I hoped that after all this fighting it would be easy to talk.” Adora bends her head down and presses her palms against her eyes.

Catra chuckles. “Yeah, we never get to do it the easy way.”

Adora lifts her head up again and finds Catra looking at her. They share a smile. “I need a break,” Adora says. “Tell me something?”

“Like, what?”

“I don't know, anything that diverts me. We've not been with each other much in years. You must have a story to tell or two.”

Catra tilts her head. “There are some.” Her tail sways back and forth. “But they don't end well.” She turns around and lays down on her back, hands behind her neck.

Adora lays down on Catra's right side, their heads at level. “What you'd like to do when we're back on Etheria?”

Catra stares at the ceiling, blinking every so often. “I don't know. It's a mess down there, and as long as that loon is still in the game, I figure there's no safe place to go. Might as well,” she turns her head and looks at Adora, “you know, stick around.”

“Sounds good to me.” Adora smiles. “I'd like that.”

“Those Princess Proms – when's the next one happening?”

“That came out of nowhere.” Adora raises an eyebrow. “Wait, you of all people want to go there again? Surrounded by your most favourite kind of people: princesses?”

“Just curious.” Catra looks at the ceiling.

“They're held every ten years. If we get to see another.” Adora scratches her head. “So in about seven years.”

Catra grumbles. “What did I just say about the easy way?”

“Us not getting it.”

“Right.”

Adora drums her fingers on the bed. “So, why you want to go?”

“I might have unfinished business there.”

“Really? And what might that be?”

Catra rolls over on her side and moves her right arm underneath her head. “Maybe I'll tell you. In about seven years.” Her face betrays no emotion.

“You're mean.” Adora pouts. “Then I better make sure we restore order on Etheria soon. That might convince the princesses to make an exception to the ten-year rule.”

“And when all looks grey, out of nowhere appears a–” She pauses a moment, then puts on a wide grin. “ _Sparkle_ of hope.”

Adora stares at her in confusion for a few seconds before she bursts into laughter and snorts. “Oh, you!” she says between quick breaths and gives Catra's shoulder a nudge, “don't let Glimmer hear that one!”

“Sometimes you're so easy to please, Adora.” Catra's smile shows, to Adora's surprise, no sign of mockery.

“Thanks, I needed that.” Adora rolls over on her back and exhales noisily.

“My pleasure.”

Adora lets her mind wander. If they manage to stop Horde Prime, there could be peace on Etheria. Not the twisted kind he's thinking of, but actual peace. Whatever that looks like. As long as she doesn't have to fight any more, Adora welcomes it.

“Got your priorities set?” Catra asks.

“Ugh. I don't know. Maybe I should have made a list.” Adora folds her hands on her belly.

Catra snorts. “I don't believe anything good starts with a list. Get to the point.”

“I can't just skip the important parts and, what, start at _the end_.”

“Yes, you can. What do you want, Adora? The rest is clutter. Makes you blind.” Catra waves a hand in front of Adora's face.

Adora catches Catra's hand and places it on her chest. “I want it to work out this time. Between us.” She turns her head to the side.

Catra returns her look. “Okay.”

“You said you wanted to be better. So do I.” Adora rolls over to her side without letting go of Catra's hand. “I'm afraid to repeat past mistakes because I'm not sure when I made them in the first place.”

“Do you want me to make a list?” Catra frowns.

“I don't want our past to keep us apart, I want us to sort it out.”

Catra closes her eyes. “No.”

Adora's jaw drops open. “I–”

“Let me finish.” Catra sighs. “Look, there's a lot of crap going on in my head. You have your life. But mine? It fell apart. I'm trying to cope with the present, no way I'm digging into the past right now.”

“I'm sorry I hurt you again.” Adora squeezes Catra's hand. She's relieved Catra didn't withdraw it. “Thanks for being open. You're doing great.”

“We'll work it out in time.” Catra turns her wrist around and takes Adora's hand in hers. “Just stay.

“You still want to be friends with me?”

Catra moves forward until their foreheads touch. “Of course, dummy.”

Adora closes her eyes and feels Catra's warmth, listens to her breath. In her mind's eye, Adora sees herself and Catra lying on the bed – vulnerable, but comforting each other. Her mind moves further out. The humming of the ship's engine fades away, the two of them become smaller and smaller. A tiny bubble of life surrounded by emptiness.

She realizes, then, this is actually true: only a fragile artificial shell protects them from dying in space. Her mind zooms in again on the bed – only there is no bed any more, no Catra. Just Adora floating in blackness with no air to breathe, nothing to cling to. Her lungs hurt and crave oxygen. She wants to scream.

An intense twitch brings Adora back to reality. She gasps and opens her eyes wide.

Catra jerks. “What's wrong? You alright?” She doesn't let go of Adora's hand.

Adora nods while she greedily inhales a few more breaths. “I must have dozed off.” She tells Catra what she saw.

“Yeah, it's scary when you think about that. A few steps in any direction and you're dead. Well, She-Ra didn't have any problems in space. That's what I heard.”

“That's true. But I haven't been able to transform since then.”

Catra closes her eyes. “It's a shame that blasted chip made me miss the show.”

“Really? I always had the feeling you hated She-Ra in particular.”

“Kind of,” Catra says and reopens her eyes. “But she's also you, right?”

“Yes – and no.” Adora frowns. “It's hard to explain. It's like I'm only part of the action. Remember all the rules of Princess Prom? Like then, I'm following someone else's rules. Last time though it felt more like ...”

“A kick-ass version of you?”

“Hey, I already kick ass!”

Catra chuckles. “You do.” She blushes. “Anyway, that's why She-Ra felt different. More familiar.” She sits up and stretches her arms and legs.

Seeing the stretches, Adora feels the stiffness of her limbs, turns over to her back and follows Catra's lead. “More familiar? Like how?”

“I don't know. Like I didn't want to punch her.”

“Hey, it's still me we're talking about.”

“What? Is not wanting to punch her a bad thing?” Catra smirks. “I can punch you if you insist.”

Adora nudges Catra's shoulder. “I like you, too.”

Catra snorts and nudges her back. “I didn't say that.”

“That's no denial.” Adora chuckles and rolls out of bed to duck a half-hearted fist. She stands up and stretches some more. “We could do some sparring if you like.”

“Another time.” Catra moves to the bed's head end and watches Adora for a moment before she stares at her feet.

Adora feels uneasy at the thought of staying without anything particular on her mind – she said what she wanted to say and can't come up with an excuse to stay. Leaving, however, feels equally wrong, as she begins to accept Catra as her friend again. Before they parted ways, they never needed a reason to hang around together. Where one was, the other wasn't far. So why is it different now? Why can't she just spend some time with her friend?

Adora gives herself a mental slap in the face. It's all about herself again. She should just leave Catra be for now. Then again, why not simply ask her? “Hey,” Adora says, “I need some water, I'll go fetch some and be right back. Okay?”

***

Catra sits on the bed with her knees at her chest. She regarded She-Ra and Adora as separate persons, even held She-Ra responsible for taking Adora away. Fighting She-Ra had been more fierce and less playful than the fights she and Adora used to have. True, these where for training most of the time, while in those the stakes had been real. Still, the difference between the two had been important for Catra. She wanted to hurt She-Ra. But not Adora. Not really. Well, she did it anyway, but ...

Now Adora and She-Ra feel more like the same person. _Is it because we are on the same side now?_ Catra wonders if she'd been saved by Adora, by She-Ra or both of them, or if this question is nonsense altogether.

Lost in thought, Catra barely notices Adora saying something about water. “Huh?” Not her proudest moment. Adora stands between Catra and the open door. The light coming in from the corridor contrasts her silhouette. It's too dim to read Adora's face, but her body is tense. “Sorry,” Catra says, “I was distracted.”

Adora has her hands behind her back. “We both could use a refreshment. I'll get us some water, okay?”

Catra watches Adora shift her weight onto her other foot. _Is she actually asking for my consent?_ “Sure.”

“I'll be right back.” Adora takes the time to smile before she turns around.

Without Adora blocking the entrance, more light flows into the otherwise unlit room. Just enough for Catra to blink and turn her head away. A second later, it gets darker again. “Back already?” Catra asks.

“I see you weren't expecting me, little sister.”

Catra gasps. Her tail bristles and her whole body stiffens with a chill. She forces her head to face the door, only to see what she never wanted to see again. “This can't be!”

“Tell yourself that if you want to deny the truth. It matters not.“ Prime steps into the room.

Catra hisses, flattens her ears and lunges at Prime, using the bed as a ramp. Her right hand is up in the air, claws ready to strike.

She freezes in mid-air.

Catra can't move any more. Her skin prickles, breathing is hard. Even moving her eyes hurts. _I must be dreaming. This can't be real._

Prime postures ahead. His right hand holds some kind of rod which emits a glowing ray aimed at Catra. “Belligerent as ever. I gave you so much, and you repay me with treason. You Etherians are a stubborn people.”

Catra's heart races in her chest. It must be the only muscle of hers unaffected by Prime's device. She tries to channel all her might, all her rage into her arm, craving to sink her claws into Prime's flesh.

It doesn't twitch.

When she tries to scream instead, only a croak, barely audible, leaves her throat.

“Your resistance leads to nothing but pain, little sister. So disappointing to see you decided to be a mere nuisance. But I have promised to make use of you, and so I will.” He moves his head close to Catra's. “I cannot do the same for your Adora, I'm afraid. She is not worth the trouble.”

Catra imagines ripping Prime to shreds, over and over again. With every strike, though, her fear for Adora grows stronger. Her impaired lungs cannot keep up with her demand for air. She's wheezing.

“But the least we can do is prepare a little surprise for her, shall we?” A smirk manifests on his lips. “I'm sure she will come back for you, to give you the attention you so desperately desire.” Prime's cold metal encased finger runs along Catra's lower jaw, then gestures towards a spot besides the bed. “I suggest you stand over there.” He uses the rod to reposition her as he sees fit.

Unable to intervene Catra tries to fade out everything happening around her. Breathing costs her all her strength.

Prime grabs her by the shoulder and moves her down so her left foot touches the floor, then turns her around until her back faces the door. “We don't want your face to spoil the surprise,” Prime says. “I even brought a present.”

Prime leaves Catra's field of view. She hears cloth rustling behind her back, then a sound similar to her claws scratching a wall. She startles when a short blade appears right in front of her eyes. Prime moved so silently she wasn't able to hear any footsteps. But there he is again, holding a dagger in hand for Catra to see.

“A blade of marvellous craftsmanship. The last of its kind. It was the gift of a king who surrendered his empire to me after he fought a futile and wasteful war hundreds of years ago. A symbol of peace, and peace it shall bring today.” Prime smirks and stares at the weapon. “Maybe I'll let you try it later. For now your imagination will have to do.” Both the dagger and Prime disappear.

The sound of the door closing sends Catra shivers down her spine. She can't help but picture Prime standing beside the door, waiting for Adora to walk right into the trap.

Catra is surprised that the force that keeps her captive allows her eyes to shed tears. Two hot streams run down her cheeks. She lets them flow freely if only to do _something_.

Of course, it won't help her. Or Adora. She feels like a kid again, trapped by Shadow Weaver when they got caught in the Black Garnet's chamber. She feels the dread of being at her mercy. She feels her self-hatred for being so weak.

Crying makes breathing even harder. At this point Catra doesn't even care. If she's lucky she'll get numb or even pass out so that she doesn't have to witness what is about to happen.

She hears footsteps coming near down the corridor. _Please, don't be Adora._ The steps stop in front of the door. Someone knocks.

“Catra?”

Catra's breathing is interrupted by violent spasms. _No, Adora, go away! Why would I close the door? Get the hint, please, you're smart!_

“I'm coming in.”

Catra can't think any more, despair is tearing her apart. The door opens. Through her tears she can see Adora's blurry shadow against the wall. No matter where Catra looks, it's always in her field of view.

Prime thought of everything.

In a last attempt at warning Adora, Catra wheezes as hard as she can, but she's already so exhausted she can barely hear it herself.

A gasp. The figure on the wall moves. “Catra!” Adora calls out while a second figure appears on the wall. “Are you al–” A muffled cry of pain, light chasing shadows away, a thud.

Catra snaps. Her vision becomes blurry and grey. Her hearing is overwhelmed by noise. Only pain remains where her lungs fight and where her heart beats. She waits for it all to end.

The grey becomes black, the noise fades. The pain endures, even when there is blackness and silence. The end doesn't come.

A splinter of curiosity emerges. There is more than just pain. Something familiar. Catra tries to remember, tries to embrace it. She shoves away the pain, bit by bit, until she can reach beyond, until she can feel it. Warmth. A touch. Pleasant and soothing. She wonders if this feeling is the beginning of all life.

The warmth grows. It tickles. Catra remembers she has a body. Something is touching her foot. Fingers. A hand. Tickles are running up her leg, up her chest, all the way up to her head.

When the tickles explode, Catra's senses hit her hard. Pain in her lungs, her aching eyes, noise booming in her ears: it's overwhelming. Focussing on the touch, Catra eventually manages to get a hold of reality. Prime is standing in front of her. He's talking, but she can't grasp what he's saying.

Catra's breathing is still ineffective, but she feels she doesn't need to breathe any more. She looks at Prime. He's still talking and moves his left hand in sweeping gestures while he does. His other hand is holding on to the rod that imprisons Catra in her own body.

“Are you even listening?” Prime glares at her.

Catra doesn't care what he's saying, won't listen to his ramblings. She realizes, now, Prime is embodying one of his clones. _So he lacks the courage to come himself_ , Catra thinks and feels anger rising. The tickles spread to her right arm, crawl all the way into her fingertips. Her hand is still raised above her head. Fingers twitch. Catra fuels her anger until it turns into wrath. The tickles concentrate in her arm.

They explode.

Catra's hand lashes at Prime's right wrist. Her claws cut through the fabric of his suit and deeply into his flesh, severing muscles and sinews alike.

Prime cries in shock and in pain. With his left hand he covers the wound, while his right hand loses its grip around the paralysing rod. It slips out of his fingers, falls down and hits the floor with a clank. The glowing beam dies down.

Catra feels gravity's pull and a rush of air. Although she hasn't used her legs in what feels like an eternity, they firmly hold the weight of her body.

Prime turns his head. His eyes widen. When he backs away, Catra is already leaping towards him. She roars in fury while her left hand flies upwards and its claws slice Prime's throat. He staggers against the wall and brings both his hands to his neck. Blood gushes out between his fingers and flows down on his front. Catra roars once more and drives her claws through Prime's face, again and again. Only when his limp body hits the floor she stops.

A sharp pain in her chest reminds Catra of the air she lacked. She falls to her knees and gasps heavily. Her head aches, her limbs tremble. She almost faints. The power she controlled seconds ago: gone. But it felt familiar. She remembers the touch she felt. That power – was that She-Ra? _That means–_

“Catra.”

It's just a whisper, but she knows whose it is. Catra is still panting, but she whirls around as fast as she can. Adora is lying on her back and reaches out for her. Behind her is a trail of blood on the floor. She must have dragged herself over to Catra when she was paralysed.

“Adora!” Catra rushes to her side and grabs her hand with hers. Their eyes meet.

“Are you alright?” Adora asks.

Catra can't believe what she heard. “Are you kidding me? You should be worried about yourself!”

Adora looks at her with confusion. “I'm fine, it's just a bruise. I barely felt anything,” she says with a wry smile. “But there's blood all over you.” Slowly she reaches for Catra's face.

Catra touches her cheek and takes a quick look at her fingers. Damp and red. “It's not mine.” She growls. “That's not important,” she says while checking Adora for injuries. Blood stains everywhere on Adora's shirt give Catra a hard time. “What did he do to you? You've lost so much blood!” Thanks to the surge of adrenaline she manages to focus on the most urgent task and to not break down in tears on the spot.

“There might be more of them,” Adora says. “On the ship.”

“Clones?” Catra grinds her teeth. “I need to get this out of the way.” She rips Adora's shirt apart.

“Hey, that's my favourite!”

Catra ignores Adora's protest. “Are there more clones here?”

Adora squints. “Maybe. He spoke in plural.”

Catra rushes over to Adora's other side. “There!” Below the ribs of her right flank blood seeps out of Adora's body. Catra presses her hand against the wound and winces as Adora hisses in Pain. Blood oozes out between her fingers. She picks up a shred of Adora's shirt and uses it to cover the wound. It helps, but not much. “I can't handle this,” Catra says. She yells for help. “Adora is wounded, we need Entrapta here!”

Adora looks surprised. “It can't be that bad. I'm just a bit tired. How about you let me have a nap, then–”

“You stay awake, don't you dare!” Catra's lips are trembling.

“ _Then_ I'm sure I can turn into She-Ra again, and I'll be up in–” She's interrupted by a series of coughs and tries to cover her mouth with her hand.

Catra feels a chill when she sees Adora's palm has crimson spots on it. She shakes her head. “No, no no no!”

Adora stares at her hand, then at Catra. “But ... This can't happen now, there's so much left for me to do. People depend on me. I still have to stop Horde Prime!”

“Stop it, Adora!” Catra shouts. “Why is it always about other people? Will you be never worried about yourself?” She feels her eyes become wet.

“What's wrong with worrying about others?” Adora looks angry, but her voice is too low to count as a shout. “Would you rather see me cry because I'm scared of–” She bites her lip. Tears roll down her face.

Catra presses her cheek against Adora's. “I'm sorry. I just can't take it any more.” She feels gentle fingers on her neck and draws strength from the touch before she raises her head again. “Where is everybody when you need them?” Once more she shouts for help at the top of her lungs. “We need Entrapta, ASAP!”

“They might be in danger. You have to warn them.”

“I can't leave you here. What if he comes back for you?”

“There's a console in the corridor right at the door. You can send a message. Please.”

Adora is probably right: Catra can't handle this on her own. She knows it, and she hates it. “Promise me to stay awake!”

Adora smiles weakly. “I'll do my best. I promise.”

Catra takes Adora's hand and places it on the cloth covering her wound. “You have to press. Don't let go!” She tears off Adora's sleeves – “I need those.” – and ties them together on one end. Carefully she lifts Adora's waist just enough to get the sleeves through the gap above the floor. Blood has spread underneath her. It gets all over the sleeves and Catra's hands. She wraps the sleeves' open ends around Adora. “You can take your hand away now.”

Adora does so and drops her arm. “How am I holding up?”

Catra knots the sleeves tightly together, causing Adora to grunt. “Sorry. You're doing great.”

“I'm cold.”

“Of course you are. Hang on.” Catra picks up the blanket from the bed, leaving red stains on it. She uses one of the corners to wipe the blood off her hands before covering Adora – the dirty end at her feet.

“Thanks.”

Catra strokes Adora's head. “I'll be back.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, Catra made it through. Broken, but not ready to give up. Not as long as Adora is still alive. And if Catra doesn't stay vigilant, that might change any second. She needs all that's left in her to keep Adora safe, for if she fails, it will be the end of them both.

With her heart racing Catra spies down both sides of the corridor. To her relief, she only finds the console Adora spoke of to her left. When she looks at the display, she's surprised there's an incoming call from Entrapta. She accepts it.

Entrapta's face appears, encased by the helmet of her space suit. She looks at something well beyond the camera. “Finally! I haven't been able to reach anyone for the last ten minutes. What's going on in there?”

“Adora's wounded, you have to get here ASAP!”

“What?” When her gaze centres on the screen, her eyes go wide. She shrieks, and a strand of hair covers the helmet right in front of her mouth. “Is that blood on your face?”

“Not mine. Now get in here!” Catra's about to lose it.

Entrapta needs a few seconds to collect herself. “I'd love to, but I'm locked out. Someone must have tampered with the system. We're lucky I could get the communication to work again. You must open the airlock manually from the inside by overriding the remote access.”

Catra clings to the console. “How long does it take?”

“If I guide you, my estimate is five minutes.”

“I can't leave Adora here even for one minute! There could be other clones coming for her.”

“Clones?” Entrapta's mouth gapes. “I'll try to check for heat signatures.”

“Hurry!” Catra jumps to the door to check on Adora. Their eyes meet. “Hang on, Adora, Entrapta is on the com, but–” She hesitates and ponders how much she should tell her. Adora deserves the truth. “She's locked out. We're on it.”

“Catra?” Entrapta asks.

Catra returns to the console. “What did you find?”

“I have two heat signatures in your room next to you. Both temperatures are below normal.”

Catra shivers. “The dead clone. And Adora. What else?”

“There are another two in the bunk, one in the galley and again two on the bridge. That's it.”

Sparkles, Arrow Boy, Wrong Hordak – that comes to three instead of five. Catra curses. “Which ones are the clones? Has Prime possessed one of them? He surely has.”

“I'm sorry, I can't tell. I assume they hacked the systems from the bridge. But it makes no difference since all doors are locked. You'd have to override those, too”

“That can't be right, the door right here is open.”

“The brig's door cannot be controlled remotely for security reasons.”

“That's just great. I can't patch Adora up by myself, but when I'm busy at a door, Prime might take the chance and get Adora.” Catra beats her fists against the wall. “How am I supposed to be at to places at the same time? – Duh! I'm taking Adora with me and let you in.”

“Hold up! I don't know how severe her injury is, but moving her might worsen her condition.”

Catra buries her fingers in her hair and growls. “Then what should I do?” She can't keep her tears in check any more. “There has to be a way!” But if there is, she doesn't see it. She yells and swings her claws at the wall, leaving scratches on the metal surface. Her fingers hurt.

They tickle.

Is there some power left? Some of what she hopes to be She-Ra's? So maybe there is a way.

Catra turns back to the console. “I'm going to try something. Monitor the heat signatures and warn me if anyone comes near. I'll turn up the volume before I go, so I can hear you. Got it?”

“Understood. But don't take too long, my oxygen reserves are finite.”

***

Adora has her lips pressed together and her eyes closed.

“Hey, I'm back.” Catra places her hands on Adora's arms. “How do you feel?”

Adora opens her eyes halfway. “I'm cold, and it hurts.”

Catra fixes Adora's eyes. “Tell me how the healing works!”

Adora blinks. “I'm too tired to heal, Catra.”

“It's okay.” Catra squeezes Adora's arm. “This time you explain, I heal. Some of the power you gave me is still left, I can feel it.”

“What are you talking about?” Adora's expression is blank.

“Just tell me, come on!”

Adora looks at her for a moment. “You have to be calm and focussed. Feel the power, let it flow and trust it to heal rather than destroy.”

Catra grinds her teeth. “How am I supposed to be calm _now_?”

“When I healed you, I wasn't ready to let you go.” Adora smiles weakly. “I thought of the future I wanted you to have.”

Catra sighs. “Well then, let's try.” She closes her eyes and lowers her head so that her forehead touches Adora's. It's easy for her not wanting to let her go, but she's so tense it's hard to focus. What does she want Adora's future to look like?

_You're so stubborn, Adora_ , Catra thinks. _Do you even know what you want for yourself? Sometimes you're so dull it's kind of cute, and sometimes it hurts. When we laughed or raced together back then, it was just the two of us._ Catra feels tickles in her chest. _But when your sense of duty kicks in, you're so far apart that I can't get through to you. Still I want to comfort you when you're sad, to be there for you when you can't sleep or when courage is failing you._ The tickles gather in her hands and in her head. _I want to touch you just because I like it._ The tickles ignite and turn into a steady stream of warmth, flowing out of Catra's body where it meets Adora's. Then it's over so quickly that Catra fears she failed. She presses her lips together.

“So that's what it feels like.” Adora says. Her voice is soft but steady.

Catra feels Adora's breath on her face. She pulls away to take a look at her. Adora still seems weak, but her cheeks appear less pale. “Did it work?”

“I guess. I feel better. Still wrecked, but better. I have no idea how you did that.” Adora smiles. “But thank you.”

Catra looks down at Adora's flank. The bleeding seems to have stopped, but it's hard to tell with all the cloth in the way. “It might have worked. But there could still be internal bleeding. Entrapta should still check on you.”

“You did a great job, I'm sure of that.” Adora reaches for Catra's arm and squeezes it firmly. “I will have a nap now.”

Catra grabs Adora's shoulder. “No, you have to stay awake!” She strokes her cheek.

“I'll be fine, I promise, but I can barely keep my eyes open. And later we're going to talk about all the nice things you said to me.”

Catra's head twitches backwards, her mouth open wide. “What? I said that aloud?”

“Either that, or I just had a pleasant dream.” She smirks. A few seconds later she closes her eyes and goes limp.

Catra bites her lip. She places a hand on Adora's chest and bends down. Adora's heart beats quickly and regularly, her breathing is easy and steady. Catra sits up for a second before she buries her face in her hands and releases all the sobs she hadn't allowed herself before.

“Are you there, Catra? We might have an unexpected problem.” Entrapta's voice echoes in from the corridor.

Catra fights to stop the sobs. “You're not done yet, okay?” She says to Adora while wiping away her tears. She pushes herself up from the floor and returns to the console. Entrapta is not looking at the camera and seems busy. “Which problem?” she asks while turning the volume back down.

“Someone – probably Horde Prime – is messing with the reactor's program. I'm trying to counter, but my options are limited by the interface here. If he gains full access to the reactor, he can force Darla into self-destruction. I need to get inside!”

Catra curses. She still can't leave Adora there, but she might be stable enough to be transported. “I'll get to the airlock as soon as I can, but I'm bringing Adora.” She ignores Entrapta's concerns and hurries back into her room. “You're coming with me, don't worry.” Catra uncovers Adora and places the blood stained blanket on the floor besides Adora. While moving her as little as possible, Catra shoves one half of the blanket underneath Adora. It soaks up the red puddles on the floor. With the blanket's other half she covers Adora again and tucks the edge under her arm and leg.

When she's done, Catra grabs the blanket near Adora's feet, drags her to the corridor and checks for clones. There are none. “Let's go,” she says before she continues her way to the airlock, trying to ignore the blood streaks she leaves behind on the floor. Hopefully Entrapta's efforts keep Prime and his backup busy. Or should she wish for them to stop messing with the ship and instead come after her?

Catra pushes the thought away. “We'll make it. We have to make it.” Her arms and legs are sore and tired. “Why are you so heavy?” she pants. “It's like She-Ra is wrapped up in there, too. Next time you see her, tell her she owes me.”

***

Catra cautiously lets go of the blanket. As expected, the console by the inner airlock's door has an incoming transmission. She accepts. “I'm here.”

Entrapta's face appears on the screen. Sweat glistens on her forehead. She bares her teeth and looks at somewhere besides the camera. “About time. I'm loosing ground.” She speaks quickly. “How's Adora's condition? It might take longer to guide you because I have to defend Darla.”

Catra kneels down at Adora's side and presses her ear on her chest. She's relieved to hear her heart beat, to feel her chest rise and fall. Reminding herself of what she has to do, Catra forces herself to examine the bandage. It seems to hold, and she finds no traces of fresh blood. Content with her findings she turns back to the console. “I think she's stable for now.”

“That's good news. How did you accomplish that? Ah, priorities!” Entrapta calls before Catra can interrupt her. “There should be a panel at floor level directly adjacent to the inner door's left side. See if you can get the cover of.”

Catra sees a metal cover twice the size of a tracker pad, a rivet in each corner. Four accurate strikes of her claws later the cover falls with a clank onto the floor and reveals a recess filled with First Ones' tech. “Got it.”

“Great. Now give me a rundown of what you see. General shapes and structure, please.”

While it's all tidy and geometric, Catra is more used to the user's side of tech and has no idea what Entrapta means by “general structure”. She stares at it for a few seconds, then decides to trust her gut feeling and starts at the larger parts and patterns. Whenever she's told to, she gets down to the specifics.

With Entrapta's precise instructions, Catra has a surprisingly easy time navigating around, plucking and placing cables and using some of the tools that were conveniently mounted at the recess' sides. Only once Entrapta feels the need to send her a schematic she hastily sketched on her interface.

Catra is impressed by Entrapta's visual thinking and her ability to multitask – she keeps all the parts and their layout in her head while also battling Prime's hacking attempts. Every time Entrapta's full attention is needed for the latter, Catra takes the opportunity to check on Adora and to look out for approaching clones. Entrapta did set up an automated alarm should any of the doors open, but Catra prefers to rely on her own eyes.

Following the most recent task assigned to her, Catra presses the pointy tip of the tool Entrapta calls “zapper” – Catra doubts that's the actual name – onto the loose end of a cable and holds the tool's button for what the hopes are about three seconds. “Done.”

“Excellent. The door should now be hardwired to your console. If it is, we and only we can operate it.” Entrapta smiles. “I'm sending you a command you have to type in.” A text message appears on the screen. “Please be exact.”

Catra hesitates. Why does Prime need another clone? Why doesn't he come for them? She's sure he knows where they are and what they are doing. Why doesn't he try to stop them?

“Did it work?” Entrapta asks.

“I have the feeling Prime is up to something. What does he need two clones for, when he's hacking just the reactor? He didn't bother us bypassing the door, but why? Either he doesn't know about it, or he's up to something else we won't like. If it's the former, we might alert him if we open the door.”

“I have no data on that,” Entrapta says, “but I need to stop him from blowing up the reactor, and I'm running out of oxygen. Open the door now! We'll figure it out afterwards.”

“Fine.” Catra is tense when she types in the command, confirms – and startles when the airlock's inner door begins to rattle upwards. “It's moving.”

Entrapta cackles. “Good work. No signs of an incoming clone.”

Catra feels a burst of excitement before she realizes something. “Hang on, shouldn't we open the _outer_ door first, so you can come in? I don't want to get out!”

“You have to override the remote access of the outer door next. And the panel is inside the airlock, again on the door's left side at floor level. You can do it!”

“I don't like it. I can't view the corridor from inside the airlock.”

“I've got your back, we're almost done! Oh, and turn up the volume of the console's speaker and microphone, so we can work from a distance.”

Catra growls. “Alright, but I'm not leaving Adora here in the open.” She adjusts the console's settings and drags Adora past the first door. The air inside the lock is cool compared to the corridor's. Hopefully the blanket will keep Adora warm enough while she works on the door. Catra moves her near the lock's back end on the left to keep Adora close and, hopefully, to protect her more easily.

This panel's cover is mounted to the wall with six rivets. Catra's fingers hurt already, but she bears the pain. Her hands operate as per Entrapta's instructions, and soon the work is done. That there's still no trace of clone activity makes her nauseous.

“Final phase of operation!” Entrapta announces. “I'll prepare the next commands while you clear the airlock. Please take the cover and all tools with you.”

“Will do.” Catra checks the corridor another time, then runs past the door. Some seconds later she's back at the console with Adora sleeping at arm's reach. Following Entrapta's instructions, Catra operates the airlock until it's all set.

“I will knock three times when I'm inside. See you on the other side!” Entrapta winks and disappears. The transmission ends.

***

Catra crouches down besides Adora and touches her shoulder. “Help is on the way.” The silence in the corridor is soothing and makes her almost forget what has happened minutes ago. It's like she's back in the Fright Zone, watching Adora sleep after a hard day's work before curling up at her feet. She suppresses her desire to crawl under the blanket. With the imminent danger of Prime attacking again, she has to be on guard and ready to act.

The thundering door startles Catra. She grunts and pulls herself together. Entrapta's waiting, so she gets up and executes the next command. The door's already familiar rattling rings in her ears and vibrates in her feet. It stops with a clank and is replaced by the hissing of returning air.

Catra backs away from the console and closer to Adora. She won't let her guard down before knowing exactly who's on the other side of the barrier. The console beeps to indicate the pressure has been equalized.

The door starts to move. Catra's tail is twitching while she watches the edge on its way up. When the gap is at level with Catra's knees, lilac strands of hair dash forward. A heartbeat later Entrapta slips through, using her hair as support. She still wears her full suit and helmet and rushes to the console. The quick movements in her direction make Catra uneasy. She instinctively bears her fangs.

“Good job,” Entrapta says without looking at her. She's already typing furiously on the console, using fingers and strands alike.

Catra can't shake the feeling this whole overriding doors thing and fighting Prime's hacking attempts has gone too well. She checks the corridor again – no clones in sight. What she's unable to check, though, is Entrapta's neck. It makes her hair stand on end. “Take off your helmet,” she demands.

“No time! I've still some oxygen left.” She didn't get the hint.

“That was no request, I need to see your–”

Everything goes black.

Entrapta squeaks, Catra hisses. No matter how well her eyes are adopted to darkness, they are not magical and need _some_ light to function. Even the First Ones' tech the ship is brimming with has stopped to glow. How can she protect Adora now?

“No, I'm too late. But we're not dead! The reactor must have shut down. Though the last readings I saw looked like the efficiency had improved. That doesn't make sense.” Had Entrapta anything to do with it? She seemed to be surprised and concerned, but both can be faked if you know what's coming. Should Catra strike her down, just to be sure?

Catra hears a click and has to shield her eyes from a sudden burst of light.

“Where's Adora?” Entrapta swings a torch around.

Catra squints. “Give me the torch and show me your neck. Now.”

Entrapta freezes. “Oh. Of course.” Catra takes the torch and points light cone at Entrapta. The helmet goes off and hair moves away – just skin.

Catra allows her muscles to relax a bit. “Sorry, but I'm not taking any chances.” She starts checking the corridors next

“I understand,” Entrapta says while Catra shines all the way down, to the sides and to the ceiling. All clear. When the light finally falls on Adora, Entrapta gasps. It takes Catra a while to understand why – the bloody blanket. Her mind had filtered the stains already. “She's been stabbed,” Catra says while Entrapta steps closer. “Right side, below the ribs. I think the bleeding has stopped.”

“Let's see.” Entrapta waves Catra closer while kneeling down and carefully pulling the blanket away to reveal Adora's injury. She checks the improvised bandage while telling Catra where to shine. “Yes, the bleeding has apparently stopped. I don't want to take the bandage off right now. Without my tools I can't do more than what you already did. And you did well.”

Catra feels a rush of relief and pride. Entrapta checks Adora's vital signs. “Her breathing is accelerated as I expect after a significant loss of blood. I don't think she's in immediate danger.”

“Thanks. For checking on her,” Catra says. “Now we need to get those clones off the ship. Whatever it takes.”

“Any suggestions?”

“We have to figure out what Prime's up to, first. Half an hour ago, he wanted to kill Adora, and now he lets us mind our own business? That doesn't make sense. No, he's working on something more important, and he's sure we won't be able to stop him.” She checks the corridor again.

“I was sure he'd blow up the reactor and get rid of us all at once. But instead, he just shut it down. And he seems to have improved its efficiency before he did so. I don't understand.”

“He's taking over the ship. That's what he does: he lays his hands on everything he can and uses it,” Catra says. “Same goes for people,” she adds in a low voice.

“No way Darla would listen to him! Except, of course, he'd change her core programming.” Entrapta falls silent. “Oh no, now it adds up! In order to take control of Darla he needs physical access to her core, and that's protected by a range of countermeasures. Disabling the reactor leaves most of them without function.” Her voice is shaky. “It's only a matter of time until he bypasses the rest of them and is able to gain control over her.”

“And with She-Ra unable to interfere he can take the ship and all of us back to his flagship.”

“Yes. He could also vent the air or wait for us to freeze to death. Or watch us dying of thirst if he's in for the long run.”

“I get it, there are a lot of way to kill us.” Catra grinds her teeth. “So we need to stop him. If he's going for the core, that's where he'll be.”

“The easiest access to Darla's core is, considering the clones' frame, probably using the maintenance shafts that runs from the bridge right to the core's chamber.”

“To the bridge, then,” Catra says. “I say we pick up the others, barge in and take the clones down!”

“Well, most doors can be opened by hand if power is down, but the bridge automatically seals itself off to prevent intruders from getting in.”

“Why can't there be an easy way?” Catra shouts. “Just once!” She tries to get a hold of herself. Now is not the time to be consumed by rage. “Let's get the others out, anyway. We'll figure something out afterwards.”

“Agreed. And we better make haste! When Horde Prime has Darla under his command, life will be even more miserable for us.”

***

Arrow Boy and Sparkles emerge from the dark, relieved to be free again. Yet they don't know the danger they have been and still are in. They are shocked when they see Catra, saying something about blood, and are even more shocked at the sight of Adora wrapped up in her stained blanket.

Catra is annoyed by the many questions they ask – and by their concern for Adora. They don't know what they are talking about, haven't been there, were spared the horror she had experienced. _They don't know her like I do._ Catra keeps them from touching Adora and orders them to lower their voices. She's glad, however, to have four more eyes to watch out, four more arms to protect Adora.

With as little words as possible Catra tells them what she deems to be essential. They discuss whether they should go for Wrong Hordak. Entrapta is outraged they even have to argue while the others agree Horde Prime's influence on Wrong Hordak is too great a risk. They can convince Entrapta though that Wrong Hordak is probably the safest as long as Horde Prime is unaware of his presence. Finally, they move on to the workshop to stock up on equipment and to come up with a plan.

Entrapta sets up a small lamp on a workbench at the centre of the room. In its light, Catra drags Adora to the foot of a shelf near a corner of the room. She sits down and leans her back against the side panel of a nearby table. It's bright enough for Catra to see the blanket move up and down where Adora's chest is hidden. Her hand finds the spot covering Adora's shoulder.

The remainder of the squad gathers around the workbench. For a while they throw ideas at each other before Sparkles summarizes: “So the doors are our only way to the bridge. But without power we can't open them. And if Prime turns the power back on, he'll already have access to all systems. Which puts us in danger and locks us out anyway.”

“Correct,” Entrapta says.

Sparkles sighs and shakes her head. “We need power and no power. That's impossible.”

“Not necessarily.” Arrow Boy grabs his chin. “Is there a way to power the doors locally?”

Entrapta spreads her arms. “That could work if we attach a potent mobile energy source.” She drops her arms and hangs her head. “Which we don't have.”

Catra gasps. “The rod!” The others look at her in confusion. “I think it's some kind of mobile force field generator. Prime used it to trap me. I couldn't even twitch a finger while under its influence.” She looks at Entrapta. “It must have some kind of battery. Do you think it might do?”

“If it's as strong a device as it sounds like, it might do. But I have to inspect it to be sure.”

“Might as well just try and see if it works,” Arrow Boy says. “What do we have to lose? We don't have a better plan yet.” Everyone nods in the dim light of the lamp between them. “You have it on you?” Arrow Boy asks.

“No,” Catra lowers hear ears and touches her neck when she remembers the place. “It's in my room. It fell to the ground and probably broke.”

“It broke?” Sparkles frowns.

“The energy source should be in order.” Catra clenches her fists and tries to keep her voice down. “It didn't explode or anything.”

“I'm willing to take the risk. So we get the thing, salvage its energy source, open a door to the bridge and take those clones out. Agreed?” Entrapta smiles and presses her hands to her chest. Sparkles nods.

“Sounds like a plan, but I'm staying here,” Catra says. When all eyes are on her again, she shakes her head. “I'm not leaving Adora here alone, and I'm definitely not bringing her to the fight.”

“You're strong, we need you for this,” Arrow Boy says.

“It's just two clones, you can handle them – possessed or not.”

“Catra ...” Sparkles takes a step forward.

Catra jumps up and bares her fangs. “I'm _not_ going back there!” Her arms are shaking while she stares into Sparkles' wide open eyes. It is so silent that Catra hears her blood rushing through her ears. When the noise is replaced by a dry cough, Catra forgets about this pointless quarrel and returns to Adora's side.

Adora is breathing steadily again. Just to be sure Catra grabs Adora's head with both hands and carefully turns it to the side. She fetches a torch from the workbench and checks Adora's lips. No traces of fresh blood, but they feel chilly. And soft.

Entrapta comes by and hands Catra a tracker pad. “You can come with us virtually.”

“Let's go,” Arrow Boy says.

Catra takes the pad. There's already an open connection.

“We'll take it from here.” Entrapta smiles and leaves.

_She really has come a long way_ , Catra thinks. She keeps her gaze on Adora while she hears the others gather some stuff from around the workshop. Eventually they step out into the corridor and force the door shut.

***

Catra is tense, her hair on end. This has been too easy so far. Prime has something up his sleeve. At least she isn't stuck in a corridor any more and only has one exit to guard. Still, she'd rather focus her attention on Adora, even if she can't help her right now. She grabs the tracker pad. “Entrapta, do you have a blowtorch in here?”

“Yes.” Entrapta's face appears on the screen. “Why?”

“I'm going to weld the door. I don't want to be surprised.”

“Oh, you'd want a welding torch for that. Happy to say you're in the right place!” Entrapta sounds like she'd turn around on the spot and gladly do the welding herself. Instead, she tells Catra where to find it, the basics of operating it and that she has to wear welder's goggles and gloves for protection.

“Thanks. You be careful.”

“It will work out all right!”

Catra sets the tracker pad aside on a rack near the door, brings the welding torch – it's larger and heavier than she expected – and starts putting on the protective gear.

Sounds of disgust and shock that echo from the pad startle her. The team must have reached Catra's room. Images flash through her mind. Her hands tremble so much she has trouble putting on the gloves. Concentrating on the instructions Entrapta gave her, she eventually manages to get a hold of herself.

Catra ignites the torch, adjusts it to the best of her understanding and points it to where the door's edge meets the frame. The metal starts to glow and melds together. Intense heat radiates to Catra's arms and face while she slowly moves the flame along the edge. She's glad to have the gloves. When the welding joint covers half the door's edge, she turns off the torch, removes the gear and checks the tracker pad.

The screen is mostly black. Only occasionally a strand of hair passes the camera. “How's your status?” Catra asks.

Entrapta's face appears. She's presenting some tech in her hands. “I've extracted the energy source of the rod. I'm already positive it's some kind of fuel cell and suits our needs.” Someone shushes her. She bites her lip, moves the pad closer and continues with a low voice: “We've opened a hatch at one of the bridge's doors and are in the process of adapting the fuel cell to the hydraulics' circuits. I have no estimate, but we are making progress.” She smiles. “How are you holding up?”

Only when Catra assesses herself, she realizes how tired she is. And frightened. She decides not to share her findings. “I've done my part on the door. Don't know how well, but it should at least prevent anyone from barging into the room and catching me off guard. I'll check on Adora and leave you to your work.”

“I will send an update when appropriate.” Entrapta's face vanishes again. The image is all shaky and blurry, until there is a steady view of the bridge's door, probably lit by a lamp they brought. Entrapta and Arrow Boy kneel at the door's side. Sparkles clings to a large wrench while she keeps watch.

Catra walks over to Adora and kneels down. Her limbs feel so weak right now, she can't imagine ever standing up again. She puts the tracker pad on the floor and brushes Adora's cheek. _So cold!_ Catra immediately starts to unwrap Adora, snuggles up at her side and throws the blanket back around them. Feeling Adora's shivers, Catra tries to cover as much of her body surface with her own as possible. Soon, fatigue threatens to overpower her. But every time she can't keep her eyes open any more, a flash of terror wakes her up. She has to stay vigilant.

Noise sounds from the tracker pad. “Catra?” Arrow Boy calls.

Catra hopes this diversion will keep her awake. “I'm listening.” She reaches for the tracker pad without lifting the blanket too much. The display shows Entrapta giving thumbs up, then a door.

“We're ready now and about to go in,” Arrow Boy says. “I've taped the tracker pad to me chest, so you can see live.”

Suddenly Catra is blinded by bright light, causing her to squint. When she realizes the workshop's lighting has turned back on, she gasps and checks the video feed. The scenery there, too, is illuminated.

“This is bad,” Entrapta says. Sparkles curses. Before Arrow Boy can add anything to the mix, the door on the screen opens. It reveals a clone, facing the camera, gun ready. He fires while the squad screams. The screen becomes blurry. Arrow Boy grunts and shouts: “Take him down!” He must have dodged the shot.

Catra is unable to move or say anything. She stares at the pad, eyes wide, mouth gaping. Due to the constrained view, the shaking and the blurry image she loses any sense of direction. Her head spins.

More shouting and screaming. Gun fire. A crack and the screen goes black. “Take your fingers off her!” Entrapta yells. Metal clanks. Someone's panting. “I got him, take him out!” That's Arrow Boy. A thud, something sizzles. “Where's the second one?” Sparkles. “I only saw one.” Arrow Boy again.

Finally, Catra remembers how to speak: “Guys, what's happening?”

“Catra?” A rustle sounds from the pad. “Is this still working? I can't see a thing.” It's Arrow Boy, still panting.

“I can hear you, but your camera seems to be broken.”

“Right, err, well, we took down a clone, but we don't know where the second one is. We'll look for him. Entrapta, can you check the heat signatures?”

Catra's hair is on end again by the thought of Prime still on the loose. Entrapta says something, but the sound is too faint for Catra to understand.

“Then how do we get access?” Arrow Boy asks. Murmurs. “Not right now! We should stick together and search every room.” Catra can make out Entrapta saying “Darla”. Arrow Boy groans. “I know, we will, but–”

“Ah, petty Etherians doing what they can do best: quarrelling with each other and being a nuisance to me,” Prime's voice booms from the ship's speakers.

Catra feels sick. She nearly drops the pad on Adora.

“You will join me in my quest to bring peace to the world,” Prime continues. “That is, those who have not already proven themselves to be irrevocably consumed by the shadows. Today, I will free you of your struggles, one way or another. And you have given me the appropriate tool at hand. This vessel will be a welcome addition to my collection of treasures from worlds that did not embrace peace, that chose to fight me. That do no longer exist. The First Ones, as you like to call them, where indeed a paranoid people. So many toys are installed on this ship, ready to drive off unwanted guests. Eager to serve anyone who is looking close enough and who knows how to use them. I see all. I know all.”

“Catra, can you hear me?” Entrapta's voice gives Catra a start.

“I can hear you.” Catra tries to concentrate. Prime is still rambling about bringing peace and how he's superior.

“If we don't make it but you do, please look out for Darla!” Entrapta is talking so quickly that Catra has a hard time to follow. “I documented all my findings about her systems. They are stored on a tracker pad in the drawer of my workbench. Use them to regain access to her core, then find the latest backup.”

“That sounds like a ton of work. Even if I ... even if _we_ get Prime off this ship, he still knows where we are, and without access, we won't go anywhere else. He'll just come after us again. How am I possibly going to fix all of that without you?”

“You're smart, Catra, you'll figure it out.” _How can she be so confident in a dire situation like this?_ “Will you look out for her?”

_Or is she just hiding her fear?_ Catra grinds her teeth. “Fine. I can't promise anything, but I'll try.”

“And your punishment shall be,” Prime announces, apparently having finished his ramblings, “electricity.”

A deafening silence sets in. Then screams of pain sound from the speaker. Catra throws the tracker pad away like it tried to bite her. She wonders why she hadn't been struck.

The screams stop after a few seconds. Grunting can be heard.

“That was rather disappointing. Let me fix that.”

Instead of more screams, however, Catra hears a bang and a crackle. When she looks in the sound's direction, she realizes it's not coming from the pad's speaker – the pad itself is smoking, and sparks strike between its surface and the floor. Catra's eyes are wide, her body tense. She expects to feel the shock any second now. It doesn't come. Instead, the stench of burned metal and plastic stings her nose.

She hears a cough. _Adora!_ Catra whirls her head around. Adora lays still like before, her breathing now and then interrupted by more coughs. Without any better option, Catra covers Adora's head with the blanket. _Of course, the blanket!_ It must have protected both of them from the shock. Catra notices her hair stays on end. She has no way to tell if the floor is safe again.

Even if Prime turned off the electricity, he made it clear he had no use for Adora or Catra any more. He will come for them. Certainly he's already on the way.

Catra trembles violently. “I can't take it any more.” She slips under the blanket and brings her cheek down to Adora's chest. The cloth rubs against her ear when she tugs on the cover to close all holes she can spot. She tries to find solace in the cosiness of their improvised lair, in Adora's heartbeat, but she fails.

***

The door clanks for an instant. Catra presses her eyes shut. The door clanks again. Probably the hydraulics struggling to break the door free. Yet another clank.

“Ah, little sister. You could have been of use to me. So resourceful you are.”

When Catra hears Prime's voice through the door, tears gush out her eyes. “Please make it stop,” she whispers.

From the door emanates a whirring sound, similar to that of Prime's guns, but more faint and ongoing. _He's cutting through the door._

“I'm sorry, Adora, but I failed,” Catra sobs. “I'm done. I wish you wouldn't have come for me.”

“That's not true,” Adora says drowsily.

Catra opens her eyes wide and freezes.

“You haven't failed, you're not done yet. There's so much left in you.”

Catra pushes herself up and pulls the blanket away. She finds Adora's gaze. Is she dreaming? Or has Prime already succeeded? Is she dead?

“And also,” Adora says, “I know you're happy I came for you. Now please do me a favour and get going.”

“How is it that you don't give up on me?” Catra snuffles.

“You're too important to me.”

Catra fights the urge to start sobbing again and presses her cheek against Adora's temple. When she lifts her head, Adora's eyes are closed. Hear breath is steady. The smoke that caused her to cough is gone, probably carried away by the awakened ventilation. Did Adora even say anything or has Catra finally gone insane?

The whirring continues. “I'll get us out of here.” Catra strokes Adora's hair.

A look to the door tells Catra that Prime is cutting through the door near the edge. At knee's level a green flame sticks out from the metal surface. It slowly moves downwards and has left a broad gap on its way. Catra tears two strips off of the blanket, carefully to not touch the floor by accident, and wraps them around her feet. She gets up, grinds her teeth and tentatively steps over the blanket's seam. Her foot makes contact with the ground. The lack of pain makes her sigh in relief.

Catra turns back and tidily wraps Adora up. She strokes her hair another time before she can tear herself away.

The flame has nearly reached the bottom. Catra scans the workshop for a suitable weapon, but she reminds herself she _is_ a weapon and extends her claws. She positions herself by the frame. The gap in the door now extends all the way down to the floor where the flame leaves a gouge. Then the flame dies.

“So, little sister, let us see what you have got.”

Catra bares her fangs. Does he know she's not dead, not even unconscious? Does he know she's waiting for him? He might know by checking for heat signatures in the room. If he knows, how can he be so sure he will be victorious? Catra shakes off the thought. It doesn't matter. She will fight him with everything she's got. She will be faster. Deadlier.

The door jerks and opens with the sound of metal grinding on metal. Catra doesn't wait for it to stop, dashes from her hiding spot and launches her attack. The clone's body comes into sight in front of her. Her eyes check his hands. He came empty-handed. Just the gun mounted on his arm. _Fool._

She thrusts her left hand's claws at the gun and tears it apart. Her right hand aims for Prime's face. He tilts his head backwards with a grunt just in time. She jumps and rams her knee into his stomach. Prime takes the hit and steadies himself by taking a step back. He blocks the punch intended for his chin but yells when his thigh gets pierced.

Catra kicks Prime's chest. He saw it coming, but instead of dodging he accepts her foot and grabs it with both hands. The impact sends him backwards. Catra tries to break free and strikes at his arms, but he spins around and launches her into the air. With her tail's help she regains her balance and lands on all fours. Prime already closed up on her and swings his fist at her face. She drops flat and the floor to evade and rolls over on her back. Prime kicks for her head, but Catra spins around in time and in return strikes at his ankle with the claws of a foot. She severs his sinews, causing him to groan and lose his stand. He falls on his back.

Engulfed in her wrath, Catra wants to rip off his face, erase his smug smile. A voice deep down inside her reminds her, though, that she only needs to smash the back of his neck. She thinks of Adora. It's more important to end this quickly than to wreak avenge.

Catra jumps to her feet and darts at Prime. He avoids the fist aiming for his face by rolling over like she did before. Immediately he rolls the other way around, evading Catra's strike at his weak spot. In return, he swings his unharmed foot into her side. Catra grunts. While falling sideways, she brings her hands to the ground and pushes herself off. The additional momentum sends her flying upside down towards the corridor's wall.

She pulls her knees to her chest. When her feet connect with the wall, she launches herself back at Prime. He is still on the ground, his head away from her, and yanks up his foot. It goes right for her face. Catra tilts her head, but she hits the boot with her cheekbone. She concentrates on her hands and thrusts them at Prime's leg. Ignoring the pain in her face she sinks her claws into his calf.

Still airborne Catra uses the leg as an anchor to flip over. She lets go of her prey when her back slams down on the ground. Gasping for air she rolls over slowly. Catra forces herself to get on all fours and takes a look at Prime. He's lying on his side, grunting, with his leg twisted in an unnatural angle. Their eyes meet. They glare at each other, both currently unable to make sudden movements.

“What a waste of resources,” Prime says through his teeth. The white dots leave the clone's green eyes. Having control over his own body again, the clone has to deal with the sudden burst of pain and screams in agony.

Catra grinds her teeth and pushes herself to her feet. She stumbles over to the clone who apparently is so engaged in his injuries that he does not react to her presence. A well-placed strike later the clone lies limply on the floor. “We'll get you in the end,” she says.

Is Prime now off the ship for good? There's no way to be sure, though she never had caught Prime lying. He always seemed to believe what he says. And when he left the clone, there was no sign of victory on his face, to trace of that smug smile she hates with all her heart.

Catra can't remember she went back to the workshop. She finds herself leaning against the workbench. Her eyes are locked on Adora. Should Catra leave her here for the time being or drag her all along? Entrapta and the others might need help, too. She realizes, however, that she doesn't know where the others are. They wanted to search for the second clone, so they could have gone anywhere.

One thing is for sure: Catra feels so tired now that she can't drag Adora through the whole ship. Maybe she could take her to the bunk, but lifting her up into a bed without help might open Adora's wound again. And she would have to leave her there to find the others. If there's still a clone on board, he'd know where she is no matter what.

Catra sighs. “I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise.” She steps out into the corridor. Her back hurts and her cheek is sore. At no more than a decent speed, she makes her way to the bridge.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Prime gone and the ship safe again, Catra won the struggle for Adora's life. Of course, that's not all she wants to win. This, however, is a problem for future Catra, as right now she's exhausted and barely holding herself together.

Entrapta's tools are lying around a hatch by the door. One wall just outside the bridge, opposite the door, bears the scars of gunfire. The door itself is closed – and it won't budge when Catra attempts to open it. She continues down the corridor and tries the other door to the bridge. Locked. Her muscles tense. Prime controlled the doors, he must have locked them after the squad fought the clone. Are they trapped inside? She hopes they are still alive, maybe even working on getting out.

Catra returns to the first door and checks the tools for anything sturdy and heavy. At the corner of her eye she spots a large wrench – probably the one Sparkles chose as a weapon. Didn't help her much, but it will suit Catra just fine. She picks it up and hammers it against the door. Three times. She waits.

With the ship's power restored, the ventilation is working again. Catra feels warm air coming down at her. Nonetheless, she shivers and wraps her arms around herself. She remembers Entrapta's request and the notes she supposedly left on a tracker pad. Could she really do it and reclaim the ship, or will it be her grave?

Three knocks root her back in the present. So there _is_ someone alive! Catra places her hands on the door as if she were able to feel through the other side. There's no way she can help them right now, but for the first time since Prime invaded her room, she dares to hope it'll come out alright. She's okay with leaving things here in the squad's hands.

Catra approaches the burned wall, extends her claws and scratches a message into the blackened surface: “I get Adora. Bunk.” She pauses, adds “Prime gone”. Back at the workshop she hesitates at the door step, fearing that she finds an empty blood drenched blanket – or no evidence she's ever been here in the first place. Catra braces herself, enters the room and feels the rush of relief when Adora is still wrapped in the blanket. Almost like a gift.

“Hey, Adora,” Catra says. “I'm back. Time to get you a proper bed.” Dragging Adora costs Catra every bit of strength she has left. She takes it as slowly as necessary, trying to push away the pain in her muscles and joints. Focussing on Adora's face helps her, and eventually she falls into some kind of trance. She's floating above and behind her own body, sees it move without her doing. There's no pain any more. No feelings whatsoever.

Adora's face draws near. Catra could reach out for a touch. It draws even nearer. She hears her breathe. That's when Catra realizes she's lying at Adora's side, both wrapped together in the stained piece of cloth. Catra chuckles at the thought of being trapped in a crazy dream. She pricks her arm with a claw and flinches when the pain comes. Does that prove she's awake?

Adora is still shivering. Catra looks around. They are lying in the space between beds in the bunk, hidden from casual glances. She grabs one of the bed's blankets by the seam, pulls it down to her and spreads it out atop the bloody one. With a second bed and blanket she does the same, lays down and tugs on the seams to make final adjustments. She listens to Adora's breaths. Dull echoes of recent horrors keep her from falling asleep.

Entrapta eventually finds them. Catra is surprised she's genuinely glad to see her. Not just because she will be spared from all the tech stuff now. Sure, Entrapta can be annoying when she's enthralled by science too much. Yet she never makes anyone around her feel bad about not understanding or not being at her level. People seem to come in second for her at times, though that doesn't matter a lot considered how much love she has for science. No: Catra is glad, because they both tend to not fit in very well. Entrapta, too, must know how it feels to be treated like a tool.

Together they lift Adora on a bed, using their hands and hair to support her body on the way. Having her instruments at her disposal, Entrapta thoroughly checks Adora through. She's content with her findings. Catra assists her with cleaning the wound and applying a proper bandage, then carefully dresses her in a new shirt and leggings and covers her with two blankets. Finally, she grabs a tissue, wets it with clean water and gently wipes dried blood from Adora's face.

Adora looks fragile, and Catra wonders why – she'd seen her asleep before. Maybe it's because usually her arms are not buried by blankets. With only her head sticking out it seems like all of Adora's agency is gone. Catra kneels down, never taking her eyes off Adora, and crosses her arms on the mattress for her head to rest on. She could extend her arm and stroke Adora's hair, like she has done a lot today, but Entrapta's presence makes her feel she's not supposed to.

From the corner of her eye, Catra sees Entrapta picking up the soaked blanket, Adora's stained leggings and the shreds of her shirt. Entrapta turns to her: “I'll be right back, then I'll see to your graze.” Catra instinctively brings a hand to her cheek. The thought of Entrapta meddling with her face makes her uncomfortable, but when she remembers Prime's boot on her skin, she reconsiders and eagerly awaits Entrapta's return.

When Entrapta enters the bunk, she picks up a flask of disinfectant and motions to Catra to sit on a spare bed. Catra complies. “Be generous,” she says. The liquid stings, but she doesn't flinch. “Thanks. And I'm glad you made it. How bad was it?”

Entrapta tells her about the fight with the clone and that it probably had been a trap all along because the doors shut while they, still on the bridge, were arguing about what to do next. Catra in turn tells her she avoided the electric shocks by chance, how Prime came for her and how she defeated him. While they chat, Arrow Boy and Sparkles stop by to see Adora, are relieved to see her well and return to their task.

“They agreed to clean up the mess,” Entrapta answers Catra's unspoken question. She shifts on the bed and tugs on her trousers. “It was a horrible sight. I'm happy you made it out alive.”

Catra nods. “Me too.”

“You also took care of Adora very well. What did you do to stop the bleeding?”

“Honestly, I don't know. There are memories that don't make sense.” Catra hangs her head. “I think my mind made up some of them, so I'm not sure what actually happened at all. Adora might as well have healed herself.”

“Are you _hallucinating_?” Entrapta leans forward with shining eyes.

“No!” Catra's ears move downwards. “Not right now. Probably.”

“Well, come see me if you are, I'd like to study your experiences!”

Catra feels uncomfortable by the thought of hallucinating _and_ being interrogated all at once. Time to change topic. “Did things go well with Darla?”

“Yes, she's back to her old self.” Entrapta gleams and strokes the wall at her side. She goes into more detail about how she managed to restore her former core programming without the need to shut the reactor down again, but Catra can't quite follow. She's back on track when Entrapta tells her how Wrong Hordak slept away the whole incident in the galley, waiting for some dough to prove. “The buns should be ready in about two hours,” Entrapta concludes.

She's apparently coping quite well. Catra envies her. “I'm not hungry. I'm just exhausted.”

“And dirty.”

Coming from anyone else but Entrapta, Catra might be offended. Instead, she looks at her hands. There's dried blood everywhere, just like on her clothes. “Excuse me,” she says, stands up and heads for the bathroom. When she reaches the sink, her hands are trembling. Using soap and water she tries to remove the traces of what she had to go through. She rubs furiously, like she could erase the memories, until her skin is sore.

 _There's blood all over you_ , Adora's voice echoes in her mind.

Catra looks at herself in the mirror. Red slashes of different sizes stare at her from her cheek, her forehead, her chin, her eyebrows, her ears. She groans through her teeth, grabs the soap and the nearest shower head and hates herself for hating water that much.

After several checks in the mirror, she's able to bear the result and decides it's good enough. She dries herself off, drops the towel on the ground, approaches the toilet and throws up the remainder of her breakfast. When the retches have ceased, she gets up to rinse her mouth. Weak-kneed and panting she returns to the bunk.

Entrapta is still sitting on the bed. “Are you okay?”

“No,” Catra says. “I'm going to bed now.” She picks up a spare blanket, curls up at Adora's feet and covers herself entirely. The cloth is thick enough to shield her from the light.

“I'm sorry,” she hears Entrapta say. “Get well.”

The door closes and Catra falls asleep.

***

Adora floats in space. At the edge of her mind a sense of urgency flares up for a moment. It's gone before she realizes what it was about.

There are no stars, but that's okay because there is nothing they could shine their light upon. Nothing but her bare body. Her hands hover by her sides. She moves her palms to take a look at them. Adora's eyes stare onto the patches of darkness. _There is something I wanted to do._

She touches her cheeks. Her fingers are numb. Maybe some light would be useful after all, then she could at least see herself. _My body_ , she thinks, _it needs something_.

Her hands check her hips. She bends her legs and stretches them again, feels her tummy, feels her chest. Her heart is beating. _What am I missing?_

She grows impatient with herself. “Tell me!” she wants to shout, but no words come out. _Because I have to breathe!_

Adora knows there is no air in space. Yet she knows she has to breathe, and so she does. Her lungs ache when she inhales the freezing emptiness. The pain makes her body tense, but she strains her muscles to fight the resistance. _I have to keep breathing._

With every breath the pain becomes more and more focussed and moves farther to the right. Adora's fingers reach for the spot where it hurts the most. She feels something cold and hard, like metal. A handle? No, it's a hilt. She looks down and sees, as clear as in bright daylight, a dagger sticking out of her flank. Most of the blade is buried in her flesh.

Adora is wide awake now and jolts up. Her wound explodes in agony due to the sudden movement. She screams while she frantically scans her surroundings.

Suddenly Catra's face is in front of her. “Adora!” Her ears are pointing upwards, her mouth is open. Catra's arms reach out, but they stop halfway through.

Adora casts another look around. The bunk. Beds around her – like the one she's in.

“It's just you and me. You're safe,” Catra says, sitting at the bed's end, hands still in the air.

Adora is panting, her hands are trembling. The shirt is sweaty and clings to her skin. She meets Catra's gaze. Her muscles relax, her breathing slows down, the pain fades.

“Feeling better?” Her voice is soft.

Adora laughs, then groans when the pain hits again.

“What's so funny?” Catra raises a brow and places her hands down on the bed.

“I just realized that I've been stabbed and, well, I'm not dead!” Adora smiles. It's her turn to reach out with her arms. Catra closes the gap, kneels besides Adora, wraps her arms around her and starts to cry.

Adora holds her tightly. She feels every quiver, hears every sob. Hot tears find their way onto her neck and shoulder. In her head memories fight for attention. Prime's smug smile. Him mocking her while she crawls on the floor, right at his feet where he said she belonged. His ramblings about peace, how he's going to leave her dying, how he's going to subdue Catra. Catra, trapped by some gruesome technology, defenceless – and already broken during her prior captivity. Adora can't imagine what Catra had to go through. She hopes Catra will be alright eventually. She must be. Adora feels her eyes become wet.

Catra's sobs have almost ceased. When Adora strokes her back with one hand, Catra rubs her cheek briefly against hers. While they stay embraced, more memories flash in Adora's mind. Prime crying in pain. Catra roaring. Catra by her side. Catra saying she wants to comfort her.

Adora lifts her head from Catra's shoulder to look at her. Her eyes are red and puffy. Only now she notices the graze. “What happened to your face?”

Catra snuffles. “It's nothing.” She wipes her tears away. “You should have seen the other guy.”

“I've expected no less from you.” They chuckle and join for another embrace.

“Actually,” Catra says close to Adora's ear, “you should not have seen him. It was awful.”

“I'm sorry.” Adora strokes Catra's back and enjoys the warmth on her cheek.

Catra holds her tight for a moment, then lets her go. “I'll get you a clean shirt, this one's soaked.” She jumps off the bed.

“Sure.” Adora wipes her eyes with her sleeve, then takes off her shirt. The bandage twinges on her skin when she moves. Adora didn't check on it yet. She turns her head to the side to take a look. With cautious fingers the prods around the white gauze. She flinches and hisses when she goes too far.

“Stop that, let it heal!” Catra snaps at her, shirt in hand.

Adora holds her hands up. “I barely touched it. It's just sensitive.”

“That's one more reason to leave it alone, don't open the wound again.” Catra looks at her from above with a frown. Then she lowers her voice. “And this is your last clean shirt. Don't bleed on it.”

An image of Catra shredding her shirt flashes in Adora's mind. “Oh. I remember now. I should have brought more.”

“Arms up,” Catra commands. Adora follows. The world becomes dim and filled with rustles while Catra carefully puts the shirt over her head. Although Adora could perfectly handle dressing herself, Catra doesn't stop until it's all the way down.

“We should get you a new bed sheet, too.”

“Or I could just take the bed over there,” Adora says.

“Do you think you can walk?” Catra raises a brow.

“It's just a few steps away. I don't have broken legs, I was just ...”

“You were _stabbed_ and have lost a lot of blood.” Catra's tail twitches. Adora holds her gaze. “Fine.” Catra throws her arms up. “But I'll help.”

Adora presses her lips together. Catra surely has the best intentions, but Adora doesn't like being pushed around. She isn't a kid any more, and she's not fatally ill. Well, she _was_ , apparently. Maybe she can handle a little overprotection. “Agreed.” She reaches out.

Catra grabs her arms and helps her up. Adora takes a step towards her replacement bed and opens her mouth to say she's fine on her own, but she starts to feel dizzy and groans. “I got you,” Catra says and tightens her grip when Adora's knees start to give away. Adora fears she's going to collapse any instant, but somehow she manages to sit down on the bed. Catra helps her lay down, then kneels at the bed's side. “You okay?” she asks softly.

Adora puffs and her heart races. “Yeah.” She expects Catra to say “I told you so”, but she doesn't. She just looks at her. “Sorry,” Adora says.

“Let me check the bandage.” Catra pulls Adora's shirt up to do so. “Looks alright. Does it hurt?”

“With every breath,” Adora admits, “but not more than before, so don't worry. Once I get through to She-Ra again, I'll have my former strength back at the latest.”

Catra adjusts the shirt again and gets up to fetch a blanket. She skilfully tosses it into the air while holding on to the seam, so it comes down gently on Adora. “I suppose one's enough?”

Adora nods. “Don't want to soak this bed as well,” she says while Catra sits down. “We'll run out of beds eventually. And shirts.” With her breathing and heart rate returning to normal, she's relaxed enough to smile at Catra.

Catra evades her eyes and hangs her head. Her back is bent. “I'm sorry, it's my fault.”

“It's just a shirt.”

“I'm not talking about the shirt.” Her ears move to the side.

Adora tilts her head, trying unsuccessfully to meet Catra's eyes. “Oh?”

“What happened to you. Prime's Attack. It's my fault.” She turns away.

 _How could this possibly be her fault?_ Adora thinks. She's about to ask Catra just that, but she doesn't want to rebuke her. Instead, she lays a hand on Catra's back but pulls back immediately when she twitches. “Please explain.”

Catra sighs. “You only got hurt because I defied Prime. He took revenge on me.”

Adora's stomach cramps. She can't let Catra take the blame. “I'm sure I've done enough myself for him to come after me. He thinks so low of us all, he'd have turned on us one way or another.”

“But without me,” Catra says and turns away even further, “Prime wouldn't have known we're here and wouldn't have come.”

“You can't know that. Hordak could as well have finished the portal on his own, and Light Hope sent whole Etheria to this dimension anyway. We still would have to face him. And we will defeat him.”

“After all I've done to you, I don't deserve to–” Catra exhales sharply. “I don't have much left to lose. Most of it I don't care much about. But losing you _again_ ,” Adora can see Catra clenching a fist, “would kill me. It almost did.”

“So that Prime stabbed _me_ is _your_ punishment?”

Catra jumps up and spins around. “I know it sounds stupid, but that's exactly the kind of game people like Prime and Shadow Weaver play.” Her fists are shaking.

Adora scolds herself for acting before thinking. She wants to resolve the conflict, not fuel it. Her heart races. She keeps her voice low. “I think I get your point. But you're not responsible for their quirks. I don't want to punish you if that counts for anything.”

“But you should!” Catra glares at her. Adora gets a glimpse of her fangs. Is Catra angry at her? At herself? She's hard to read when she's tense.

“Because that wouldn't do me any good. I want you to be okay!” A memory flashes Adora's mind: little Catra, angry and hurt; little Adora reassuring her it's going to be okay; little Catra not buying it and lashing out at her. Pretty words won't help. She has to offer something that Catra can actually work on. “If you feel you have to make up for it, stay with me and help me defeat Prime.”

Catra looks at her, legs trembling. She falls to her knees, throws her head onto the bed and buries it with her hands. “I can't take this any more. I want to be better, but it all keeps coming back. I'm so sick of it.”

Adora fights the urge to join the wail. With trembling lips she reaches out for Catra's head – this time she doesn't flinch – and strokes her hair. “I'll help you. I want to comfort you.” She's sure her voice is giving her sorrow away.

Catra raises her head and looks at her with raised brows. Adora's hand moves to her cheek.

“I remember you saying that to me.” Adora gives her a welcoming smile.

Catra's eyes widen. “You do?”

“I do,” Adora says and brushes Catra's skin with her thumb. “Don't tell me you didn't mean it.”

“No!” Catra closes her eyes and presses her cheek against Adora's palm. “I did.” Her voice is low.

Savouring how Catra accepts and returns her touch, Adora feels warm inside. At the same time she fears it might not last. “And the other things you said?”

“Yes.” It's just a whisper, and it comes so sudden, Adora is sure of its sincerity. She notices the slight blush on Catra's face. Did she surprise herself?

Adora hopes she's finally getting through to her. She takes a deep breath and decides to dare Catra a little more. With her free hand she lifts her blanket at Catra's side. “Show me.” Her heart thumps.

***

Catra opens her eyes. Adora is lying in front of her on the back. One hand has pulled away the blanket while the other continues to stroke her cheek. Catra can't decide whether Adora is serious or enjoys torturing her. Adora's face has always been easy to read for her, and it seems to be kind and inviting and anticipating. If it's a trap and Catra falls for it, she's done. If, on the other hand, Adora is sincere and Catra pushes her away now, she may never be able to amend her choice.

 _Why am I even thinking about it? It's Adora._ Catra realizes, then, she's not questioning Adora's motives, she's questioning her sanity. If she's gone crazy, however, she might as well embrace it.

“Please?” Adora asks.

Catra pushes herself off the bed, puts a knee on the mattress, then a second. The bed squeaks as she lies down on her side and crawls to Adora to close the gap. Their legs intertwine before the blanket welcomes her. Adora tugs on the cloth behind Catra, covering her well. Catra rests her head on Adora's chest and reaches with her left hand for Adora's right upper arm – always keeping her injury in mind. Just like she did before to keep her warm. Adora brings her hand to Catra's back and starts stroking her. _That's new_ , Catra thinks. _That's better._ She feels Adora's chest move and hears the beating inside. When Adora sighs softly, Catra's cheeks become hot.

“I missed your purr.”

Catra didn't realize she was indeed purring. She's ashamed to have relaxed so much while she believes to not deserve Adora's affection or forgiveness. Yet, she is adept in suppressing her emotions – a necessity of survival –, so she manages to relish Adora's warmth and her every movement. Adora is alive, and so is Catra.

Eventually Adora falls asleep. Catra wonders how long she herself had been sleeping since they got rid of Prime. Considering how stiff her limbs are, how much they hurt and how sore her eyes are, maybe not at all. She tries to embrace the weariness, but Adora's occasional jerks don't exactly help.

Catra is startled by a shove to her head. She must have dozed off, but she is still exhausted, her mouth dry, her lids heavy. A sense of imminent danger rushes through her mind. It makes her hair stand on end and her muscles tense. When she strains her arms in order to get up and ready to fight, she feels familiar softness, remembers where she is and halts. Though she only did so much as to twitch, she hopes she hasn't disturbed Adora's sleep.

Most of Adora's breaths are short and heavy, only a few long and relaxed. Catra carefully lifts her head and torso. The emotions showing on Adora's face quickly switch between fear, surprise, pain and anger. When Adora's body is shaken by a jerk, Catra realizes one of those must have woken her.

Catra startles anew when Adora groans like she had taken a hit in the guts and opens her eyes wide. The dim glow of First Ones' tech is enough for Catra so see clearly, but what about Adora? “Hey there,” she says in an attempt to help Adora remember where she is.

Adora spins her head around. Catra is relieved to see Adora's face relax and smiles. Adora drops her head on the bed and exhales with puffed cheeks. “Hey,” she says with closed eyes.

Catra touches Adora's shoulder and strokes it with her thumb. She waits for Adora's breathing to settle down. “Bad dream?”

Adora looks at Catra. “Yeah.” She squeezes Catra's hand. “It's nice to see a friendly face.”

Catra hopes the light is low enough to hide her embarrassment, but tries to turn attention away from her just in case. “Care to tell?”

Adora lets go of Catra's hand to rub her own forehead. “Prime. Flashbacks.”

“He knows how to get to you, doesn't he?”

“Yeah. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Still I didn't expect it to bug me so much.” Adora sighs.

“So you _are_ human.” Catra's smirk is answered by a frown. “Sorry, I don't know why I said that.” Catra looks away. Adora doesn't answer, but the look Catra imagines getting right now burdens her. “I guess I wanted to say that I can relate, that I know how awful those nightmares can be. And that I'm sorry you have to go through that.” Catra hears Adora's soft breaths and feels her chest move up and down. She dares not to look at her yet. “Please say something.” She dares not to move.

Adora sighs again. “You didn't do too bad. We've said far worse things to each other when we were just fooling around. But your timing was the worst.”

Catra finds the courage to look up when Adora places a hand on hers. Her eyes are kind, yet Catra sees the weariness behind. “I know. The words just came out. I'm still learning this comforting thing.”

“How about this instead?” She takes Catra's hand and presses it against her own cheek. Catra bites her lip while she enjoys soft skin beneath her fingers and feels the tension ease. She moves her head forward and strokes Adora's other cheek with her nose.

“Yes,” Adora whispers. “I'm feeling comforted already. You learn quickly.”

“Then I'll better remember that.”

Adora chuckles until her injury protests once more. “This gets really annoying.”

“Maybe you should rest some more.”

Adora mutters. “I'm not so eager to dream again. And I'm quite thirsty and hungry.” She rubs her stomach. “How long did I sleep?”

“I don't know. I wasn't able to keep track. A couple of hours I guess. Let me fetch something for you, there should be some buns left in the galley.” Catra gets up from the bed, but Adora catches her hand.

“Wait, I'm coming with you.”

Catra turns back around. “Take it easy, I can handle it.”

Adora shakes her head. “I'm not going to lie here all day, I'm sore already.” Catra opens her mouth to speak, but Adora interrupts her. “I do appreciate your concern, but right now I'd rather you help me up.” She removes the blanket with her free hand.

“Fine.” Catra holds Adora's hand tight while she sits up. She spots Adora's mouth twitch. “But take it slow. If you feel dizzy, we pause. Okay?”

“It just hurts when I get up or down.” Adora grabs Catra's other hand. “I'll be fine, don't worry.”

Catra frowns. “But I worry. Remember your last walk? When you collapse, you just hurt yourself. Now is not the time to be brave.” She holds Adora's gaze. Maybe Catra's too hard on her, but Adora definitely is too stubborn for her own good. “You wanted my help, now take it.”

Adora hangs her head. “I'm so tired of all this fighting.”

“Yes, me too. Look, I get it: you're strong and independent – and ready to prove it. But I already know your soft spots.” Catra lowers her voice and runs her thumbs over the back of Adora's hands. “Adora, it's me. Is me looking out for you so embarrassing?”

Adora chuckles. “I keep telling myself I've grown so much stronger since I left the Horde. Right now it feels like I'm back in the Fright Zone, still the same.” She squeezes Catra's hands. “I guess I wanted to impress you, but I was never able to fool you, was I?”

“You _are_ stronger. I hope we both are.” Catra kneels down, so she can see Adora's face – her lids are shut and her lips pressed together. “Can you imagine us having these serious talks back then?”

Adora opens her eyes and meets Catra's. “No.” She smiles. “No, I can't.”

Catra smiles back. “Let's go and get us a snack.”

***

Adora drums her fingers on the galley's table and watches Catra rummage through the many cupboards. Now and then packets of dehydrated proteins get tossed through the air.

Catra groans. “Where did he hide them? There must be some left.” Her tail curls at the tip. “Well, there's some water. Whatever that's doing in _here_. Who made this mess?” She walks over to Adora and hands her a bottle.

“Thanks.” Adora removes the cap and gulps the water. “Wow,” she pants when the bottle is empty, “I needed that.”

“Obviously.” Catra smiles and offers another.

Adora drinks half of it. “This,” she says between breaths, “is the only fun part of being thirsty.”

Catra fetches a bottle for herself before she sits down beside Adora on the padded bench and drinks. “Yeah.”

“Feels like it's been ages since my last drink.” Adora leans to the side so their shoulders touch.

“Well, you've been thirsty already when, you know ...”

Piercing green eyes flash through Adora's mind. “Yeah. That's one reason why I didn't want you to go alone.” She feels Catra's fingers close around her hand. “By the way, where is everybody? Are they alright?”

“Last time I saw them they were quite busy. Entrapta's probably checking on Darla or repairing stuff with Wrong Hordak on her tail. Arrow Boy and Sparkles should be on the bridge.”

“Were they hurt?”

“They only received electric shocks.”

“They did?” Adora's eyes are wide, and she feels chills on her back.

Catra shrugs. “Only twice.”

“That's still a lot when compared to, you know, not being shocked.” Adora frowns.

“They seemed fine to me. You know, running around on their own, not fainting on the way to the galley.” Catra squeezes her hand.

“I didn't faint.” Adora pouts. Her stomach grows.

“I can take another look for the buns.”

Adora wants Catra to stay close, wants to enjoy her touches. “We should ask the others. I'm sure they can handle a little disturbance if they are so well like you say.”

“Nah, I've got you covered.” Catra gets up and starts to search the cupboards again.

 _There she goes._ “We can send a message.”

“I said, I–” Catra stops herself.

Adora is tempted to let Catra have her way, but if they want to fix their friendship, they need to resolve their conflicts eventually. “Please speak your mind.”

Catra continues her search. “I'm not in the mood to see anyone. That's all. They're so ... _buzzing_.”

 _They are_. Adora barely remembers how it was like to have them around early on, and usually she's fond of their liveliness. Now, the notion of having the squad around makes her tense.

“Plus,” Catra says over her shoulder, “if they know you're awake, they'll swarm around you and ask all sorts of questions. Questions they shouldn't ask. Not yet.”

“Alright, we leave them out.” Adora clings to her water bottle. “But I could handle some mere questions.”

“You were stabbed, Adora! You nearly died there on the floor right in front of me in a puddle of–” Catra takes a deep breath before returning to her task.

Adora feels her heart sink and bites her lip. “I'm sorry, Catra.” She lowers her voice. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“There you are!” Catra shouts into the oven. She takes a plate from the worktop with one hand, with the other fetches two buns and closes the oven door with a foot. “Still warm.” She returns, puts the plate on the table and sits down at Adora's side. “Eat, before they get cold.”

Adora doesn't feel like eating any more. She feels for Catra's hand, and, when she finds it, is relieved she doesn't move it away. “Are you okay?”

Catra avoids her glance. “No. And I don't want to talk about it.”

Seeing Catra bringing up her defences again makes Adora sick. _How do I get through to her?_

Catra moves a little closer and squeezes Adora's hand. “I can't. Not yet.”

Adora wonders if Catra read her mind, but realizes she's tense herself. Catra must have noticed. _I'm such an idiot. This isn't about me._ Instead of hiding her feelings behind anger or mockery, Catra allows Adora to see she's troubled. What would make her feel better – without pressuring her? “Take your time.” It's all Adora can come up with.

“Now eat. I'm not going to feed you.”

Adora looks at the buns, then picks one up. She feels the soft and warm crust between her fingers. Strawberry scent enters her nose, but Adora can't make herself take a bite and puts the bun back on the plate. It feels wrong to her to act normally, like nothing happened. Catra isn't alright. And neither is Adora. Then again, acting normally is perhaps a sane thing to do. “You fed me once. Remember?” When she turns her head towards Catra again, she sees a hint of a smile.

“Oh, that one time you got glue all over your hands, and it hardened before you could wash it off?”

“Yeah, I couldn't pick up anything.”

“It took the hole day to remove it. You missed lunch _and_ dinner.”

“And then you smeared ration bar on my face.”

“It was an accident!”

“Like, five times in a row?” They both chuckle. Adora enjoys laughing with Catra again. Her injury barely hurts. “I've missed you.”

Catra rests her head on Adora's shoulder. “Did Sparkles tell you anything?”

“About what?”

“Nothing. Forget about it.”

That got Adora's curiosity. “Come on, you can't just tease me and say it's nothing.”

“Sure can, just did.” Catra sounded almost like she _asked_ Adora to press her. Adora wants her to talk freely on her own, though. To feel safe enough to do so. She strokes Catra's hand with her thumb and leans her cheek against Catra's head. Catra takes a deep breath. “We just had a chat. The day I sent her.”

Adora remembers the transmission. How Catra said sorry. How they were cut off. She focuses on the topic at hand and clears her throat. “You and Glimmer had a chat?” She intended to express disbelief, but it came out like she blamed Catra.

“It's not like there was anyone else to talk to.” Of course Catra noticed.

“I'm sorry. Please go on.”

Catra sighs. “There's not much to tell. She said she missed you and your sleepovers. It reminded me of the ones we had. And–” She sits up straight and stretches her back. Her head and her shoulders move in circles. She does not let go of Adora's hand. “I missed you, too.”

Adora should be happy hearing that. But somehow all she can think about is: “It just needs a chat with _her_ for you to turn on the Horde?”

Catra leans away from her and stares at her, eyes wide and mouth gaping. “Are you mad at me? Seriously?”

“No!” _Yes! What? Why am I yelling?_ Adora can't think straight, but she can't stop what she started, either. “I've tried my best to get you to join us. To join me. And we've been friends for as long as I can remember! Now Glimmer takes all the credit? No hard feelings for her, but ... why couldn't I do it? What does she have that I don't?” Her voice is shaky now. “And why can't I see anything?” Tears roll down her face. “What is happening to me? Catra, I–” Adora feels her hand being squeezed. She wipes her eyes with her sleeve. Catra is looking at her, brows raised. Adora stares at her motionless.

“You're jealous.” Catra's voice is low but firm.

Adora snuffles. “What? No, it's just ... You've made a very important decision that day, and I wasn't there with you. Glimmer doesn't know you like I do. It should have been me–” She rolls her eyes. “Ugh, I'm so jealous. I'm an idiot.”

“Listen, dummy.” Catra takes Adora's hand in both of hers. “Of course I'm here because of you. I had already made up my mind, I just didn't know it then. Sparkles has nothing to do with it. Her being there was just ... convenient.”

Adora catches a breath. “You're not angry?”

Catra chuckles and shakes her head. “Not once I understood what's it about. It's kind of flattering.”

Relief spreads in Adora's body and mind. “Please don't tell anyone I freaked out a little.”

“I'll keep it a secret. Especially from her.” Catra stretches the last word.

Adora laughs out loud. She doesn't even know why. Maybe she's having a breakdown. She laughs until her injury hurts and causes her to wince. Catra strokes her hand. “This better heals quickly,” Adora says. “If only so that you don't have to worry about me so much.” She nudges Catra's shoulder with hers. “I like your happy face better.”

Catra snorts. “Oh come on. That's mushy, even for you.” She picks up a bun from the plate and looks at it from all sides as if expecting inedible bits. When she seems convinced there aren't any, she takes a bite. Jam pours out between the bun and the corner of her mouth. She leans forward, so the sticky stuff drops onto the table and not her clothes. Some of it remains on her cheek, though. She grumbles but keeps chewing.

“Looks like Wrong Hordak was too generous with the filling,” Adora snickers. She feels her hunger return and grabs the remaining bun. The dough is fluffy and sweet, the jam lukewarm, fruity and eager to escape. Soon, their faces and the table are a mess.

Catra licks her fingers and tries to wipe the jam off herself. She misses a dollop. Adora points to the respective spot on her own face to guide Catra, but she misses again.

“Wait, hold still,” Adora says, licks a finger clean and aims for the jam on Catra's cheek.

Catra flinches and pulls her eyebrows down. “You're not touching me with your sticky finger.”

Adora smirks. “Don't fuss, you'll have to wash it anyway.” Catra pouts and mutters but lets Adora have her way. Adora licks her finger again and offers her cheek. “Your turn.”

Catra looks at her, ears twitching. “What's that?” she says with a frown.

“What's what?” Adora says, troubled by Catra's expression, feeling the stare on her cheek.

“Right there.” Catra squints and moves closer.

Adora gets tense. “Um, get it off? Please?” She holds her breath.

“I think ...” Catra licks boldly across Adora's cheek.

Adora gasps as prickles run along her spine, starting out below and moving all the way up.

“Yep, it's jam,” Catra says while pulling away again. “Sweet.”

Mouth and eyes opened wide, Adora turns her head to look at Catra and sees her grin. Did she just mock her? Take vengeance? Adora realizes that Catra didn't let go of her hand. An act of affection? She's so engaged in figuring out how to respond that she just stares.

Catra's grin melts away. Before Adora has a chance to say anything, Catra gets up. “We should clean this mess up.”

Left with a void in her hand, Adora senses she has hurt Catra again. She wants to go after her – but then what? Say sorry? Lick _her_ face? _She disliked my finger already_. When Catra returns with a dishcloth to wipe the table, Adora watches her, but Catra's eyes evade hers. She knows that look: Catra is withdrawing back into herself.

Adora decides to trust her gut feeling, decides it's time to be brave. “Catra,” she says softly. Catra stands, her back facing Adora. She puts the dishcloth away and towels her hands. “You missed a spot,” Adora continues. Catra's tail twitches, towel still in hand. _Please don't throw that at me._ “Look,” Adora tries. When Catra turns around, Adora raises a finger to her cheek.

Catra's mouth opens a bit and her eyes come alive. Her body doesn't move.

Adora's heart is thumping. She turns around, so her legs hang from the bench's side's edge. Catra stands in front of her, two steps away. Adora extends a hand.

Catra's tail sways, her eyes scan Adora's face. “Don't toy with me.”

Adora notices a hint of shakiness in Catra's voice. It's a plea. “Come.” Adora turns her head to offer her cheek once more. “Tell me if it's sweet here, too.” She points to where she believes jam to be sticking. Her other hand still reaches out.

Catra takes a step forward. She puts the towel on the table, takes Adora's hand in hers and reaches for the other. Adora turns her face to the front, grabs Catra's hand and lets her pull her up. Catra slowly draws near. She aims for Adora's cheek. Adora feels the warm tongue on her skin, feels prickles again. Had Catra been bold the first time, she's gentle now. _Oh my, she's purring_.

“Sweet,” Catra whispers into Adora's ear. Adora closes her eyes when Catra's tongue caresses her cheek another time. When she opens them, Catra's face is right in front of her. Adora bites her lip. She feels Catra's tail brushing her leg, her breath on her chin, strawberry scent in her nose. Catra moves her head to the side and treats Adora's other cheek with long strokes. Adora sighs. _Why does it feel so good?_ Catra's strokes become shorter, the pause between them grows longer as they advance towards her lips. Adora dares not to move. She wonders what Catra's lips feel like.

Catra draws her attention away from Adora's cheeks. She looks at Adora. Looks into her eyes, then down, then into her eyes again. _Is she asking for permission?_ Adora moves her head, just a little. Catra bridges the gap. Their lips touch. Adora is surprised how soft and warm they are. And sweet. But what is she supposed to do now? She's going to ask Glimmer. Or not. Netossa and Spinnerella definitely have some experience. Yes, she's going to ask them. Later, that is. That won't help now.

Why feel her lips so numb? Why is her head buzzing? Why is Catra looking at her like that?

“Adora, are you okay?”

Her legs are weak, she's sweating all over, her heart races. “Uh, I need to sit down.” Catra quickly wraps her arms around Adora and helps her sit down on the bench. Adora is breathing heavily.

“You still look pale, you better lie down.” Catra grabs Adora's hands and supports her while she lowers her back all the way down. She pushes the table out of the way, kneels besides Adora and strokes her head. “Slow and steady breaths, you're hyperventilating.”

Adora closes her eyes and tries to concentrate on her breathing. She shivers. Slowly her head becomes clear and her lips feel normal. Her heart rate stays high, though.

“There you go,” Catra says.

“I'm sorry, I ruined it.” Adora looks at Catra.

“Don't say that.” Catra's voice is soothing. “You went through a lot.” She casts down her eyes. “Did I ... didn't you ...”

Adora takes Catra's hand in hers. “I wanted it.” Catra squeezes her hand and finds her gaze. “I just wanted it to be, you know, awesome. But I didn't know what to do.”

Catra smiles. “We could ... practice. If you like.”

Adora's heart is pounding like she's running for her life. _Stupid heart, I'm where I want to be._ “I do.” She sees Catra's cheeks turn red. Judging by the heat Adora feels on her face, hers look the same.

“We'll have plenty opportunities to do so. We can take it slowly.” Adora reaches out, runs her fingers along Catra's jaw, moves on to her ear and strokes it. Catra closes her eyes and presses a hand on Adora's.

“Kiss me already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'd appreciate your comments on what you liked and didn't like, so please drop a few words if you don't mind.


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